


Wet

by dementia9



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Arsenal FC, F/M, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:15:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28602777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dementia9/pseuds/dementia9
Summary: Héctor Bellerín seeks consolation after a terrible loss.
Relationships: Héctor Bellerín/You





	Wet

**Author's Note:**

> While I know there have been a few wins by Arsenal (of which I'm happy about), the season wasn't going so well before. I am not naming a specific loss in this story, though. And anyway, it's been a while since I posted here. Enjoy!

He is in the shower. You know he has had a hard day – you watched the game. Another loss at home. He did not even greet you when he came through the door, he had been so upset.

“Héctor?” you called out to him as he rushed up the stairs.

You follow him, hearing the water running as you got closer to the bathroom door. Slowly, you open the door, and you hear soft curses falling from his lips. Your shoulders slump, your eyes droop – _poor baby_. He is never this way, holding on to something like this, but it is clear he has been affected, and you wonder what you can do.

Closing the door behind you, you strip yourself of your clothes. Héctor needs comfort, not derision. Everyone will bully him and the team online and in the press, but that will not happen right now. You make your way over to the shower, pulling the curtain back as you step in. He does not notice you at first; his eyes are closed, and his head is tipped back as he lets the spray douse his face. Soon, you wrap your arms around his waist, pressing your lips against his broad shoulders as he turns to face you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I was all in my head.”

“Shhh, it’s alright,” you respond, kissing his neck. “Let me take care of you.”

Héctor moans as you touch him, your hands wandering south to stroke his cock while your teeth nibble on his ear. He leans his head against your shoulder, closing his eyes as you slide your hand up and down. He gasps as your thumb circles the head, slick with precome.

“I love you,” you whisper.

But he cannot speak, too caught up in the moment to mutter anything coherent. Instead, he reaches back between your legs and fingers your clit, and you hiss as he rubs the moist organ back and forth. You almost lose your grip on his rock-hard member as he strokes you, but you hold on firmly. 

You curse as a finger enters you, pumping you firmly, which only makes you increase your speed. The two of you are panting as you approach orgasm, your moans getting louder. With a single jerk, Héctor growls and cums into your hand, while your walls begin to tighten. You cry out as your body undulates against him, holding him tight through your high. Breathless, you press your head against the back of his, the other hand stroking his face.

The water washes the semen from your hand, but you manage to save some. When he regains the strength to look at you, you put a coated finger into your mouth and suck it clean before smiling at him mischievously. Héctor grins before leaning in for a kiss, emitting a moan as he traces his tongue in your mouth. After pumping his lips against yours four times, he pulls back with a sigh.

"Thanks," he says, pulling you close. "I needed that."


End file.
